Malaysia is irrelevant. But here are three ways we have to screw it for eternity — with its terrorist regime.

(See bottom of post: After America’s Crusades and failures in the Middle East, it now needs a global holy war?)


1. The Northern Sea Route

Doable tomorrow

Talking to Kim Jung-un

Buy Russia first! America last.


2. The BRI Eurasian Land Bridge

It’s happening!

Image result for eurasian land bridge route map

For details, see this.


3. Kra Canal

Final design done.

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Changing history

US$44 billion to Thais

Long journey trains



Anglo-America’s Deep State challenge to the New World Order: Wreck it.

With the like of Mahathir Mohamad, Rais Hussin, Zakir Naik — plus propaganda from Reuters, Fox News and Malaysiakini — is America starting a global holy war?

And Malaysia as the intersection of this new terror, radiating south and east Asia, before southern Thailand and Bali, now southern Philippines, Sri Lanka and India, hence becoming the global importer and exporter of terrorism. All past terror networks were traceable back to Malaysia, all during Mahathir’s rule; today Sri Lanka, too.

Muslims vs Christians vs Buddhists vs Hindus vs China vs Russia vs Europe vs Iran vs Venezuela vs Cuba…





In the southwest Sichuan mountains, a former PLA officer started a school in a place called 凉山 Liangshan.


And I think of home, of her and today I am far away. I think of my China’s future.



How Pakatan Harapan, Malaysia by extension, is deeply embedded in the 290 church and hotel deaths (500 others injured) by the Easter bombings; the four indicators:

1. A target: Robert Kuok & his Shangri-La

Image result for shangri la sri lanka bomb

You think Muslim terrorists going after Robert Kuok by mixing him with Christians is an accident? Think again.

Image result for shangri la sri lanka bomb


2. Fomenting terrorism: Zakir Naik is protected by Mahathir Mohamad

Image result for zakir naik mahathir

Mass burial


3. The suspects: Zakir, Imam Hashim & his National Towheeth Jamath

Image result for shangri la sri lanka bomb

“For years, the faithful man (Zakir Naik) spread his incitement without being banned,” Hashim said (in one video, screen capture above). In another, he adds: “What can Sri Lankan Muslims do for Dr. Zakir Naik?


4. Rais Hussin, Islamic Terrorism & Propaganda

On dozens of occasions, most notably in July 2009 in Kunming, Muslim Uighurs have gone on mass murder sprees, like that in Sri Lanka today.

Rais Hussin and Mahathir can beat their chests, even let go Uighur terrorists headed for ISIS Syria.

But we will never, never, never allow this mayhem on Chinese soil — again — even if we have to locked up all the Uighurs. Locking them up will be for their own good because the alternative is, we kill the motherfuckers, and there is not a thing Rais or Mahathir can do to stop us. Even if Mahathir sends Zakir Naik to Xinjiang.

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Who is persecuting who, Dr Rais?

Crying for help? Cry louder, boy. We’ll help you squeal like a pig.


Note that neo-liberals won’t call out the attack (clip below). Also note, for example, how Rais Hussin is very quiet, today pretending Sri Lanka doesn’t exist.

Rais, are Muslims persecuted in a democracy?

Instead, Anglophiles, Reuters and the US-sponsored Malaysiakini prefaced the church and hotel massacres as a Sri Lanka national character rooted in the Tamil-Singhalese war that ended a decade ago. Below is American-backed Steven Gan who, led on by Reuters, tries to pin the genocide on Buddhists and hence to deflect the blame by bundling Christians and Muslims as a single, innocent minority group:

Out of Sri Lanka’s total population of around 22 million, 70 percent are Buddhist, 12.6 percent Hindu, 9.7 percent Muslim and 7.6 percent Christian, according to the country’s 2012 census.

In its 2018 report on Sri Lanka’s human rights, the US State Department noted that some Christian groups and churches reported they had been pressured to end worship meetings after authorities classified them as “unauthorised gatherings”. The report also said Buddhist monks regularly tried to close down Christian and Muslim places of worship, citing unidentified sources.

The White man, Anglophile propaganda continues, coming even from distant lands.



Still don’t get it? Here are the dots:

  • Sri Lanka is one of China’s closest friends;
  • Sri Lanka, like Myanmar, is Buddhist;
  • Rais and Mahathir hate the Chinese, especially if they’re Buddhists;
  • The Caliphate has no quarrels with China but is finished in Syria;
  • There are more than 4,000 ISIS Uighurs in Syria with nowhere to go;
  • ISIS Uighurs want to get even but can’t get to China;
  • Islamists too want to get even on Myanmar but the latter’s security is tight;
  • Killing Christians and kidnapping Chinese in Philippines have gotten nowhere, not with Duterte around;
  • The Thai army has gotten a grip of the local situation, especially in the south;
  • Sri Lanka is far more relaxed than ten years ago;
  • America won’t mind some help to show that China’s expansion is destabilizing for Asia; imagine what is it like for Anglo-Americans and Anglophiles if, in ten years time, Sri Lanka, Thailand, Myanmar, the Philippines and others are all as rich as South Korea. Nobody will need America anymore; imagine South Korea dealing with North Korea while America looks on merely as a bystander (Yankees are freaking out!); Sri Lanka imports more K-pop and Korean drama DVDs than all that Anglophiles buy in Hollywood stuff;
  • The Islamists, usually happy to show cutting throats, aren’t claiming responsibility because that means confessing to the Connections, about Zakir Naik, about fellow Islamists in Malaysia, about ISIS (which was cultivated by the CIA) and back to American dedak;
  • America won’t mind looking the other way since this is happening in Sri Lanka and not the UK; even Zakir Naik has its uses for America, as long as he is not in New York;
  • America has already paid for (see Update) the political, ideological, institutional, religious, and media propaganda Connections in Malaysia, especially of the neo-liberal kind, whereas rich man Robert can’t be paid off, and being expendable, no longer serves any useful purpose. Besides, he is China and Chinese and the Shangri-La is symbolic of locals getting rich — without America! — and,
  • Given all the above, how do you fuck up a nation?

Now, try connecting the dots again.

(Kim Iversen in the clip is, without saying so, as befuddled as you are so that, really, all she wants to know is, why, why, why. Instead she goes on a long yawn, yada, yada, yada over liberals like her. See how egocentric are these Anglophiles. Stupid Kim.)



Mahathir exports his racism and racial politics to China

Feeling oppressed? Fret not. You will be rescued to heaven soon. It’s called Malaysia.

(Hey, comrade: If anyone of them as much as fart, no re-education. Just shoot the motherfucker. They are on Chinese property, under the Chinese sun, living Chinese rights. Lucky that so far they are even allowed to breath, reproduce and make money. Thousands of Chinese under Mamakutty weren’t so lucky.)


Talking Terms with American Puppet

Each time Mamakutty goes to Beijing, he farts in Hong Kong, the only town in the world that will tolerate it and that’s usually done by his hatchet boy named Saifu. The following, by Saifuddin Abdullah, are the exact same American talking points:

  • free navigation (for Americans only?);
  • no warships (other than American?);
  • BRI debt trap;
  • Uighurs.

Saifu want the Uighurs freed: Well, he and Mahathir anak lelaki Mohamad can have all of them. Here’re our terms:

  • Freedom and an independent state for the Orang Asli and all aborigines.
  • Freedom and independence for Sabah.
  • Freedom and independence for Sarawak.
  • Sovereignty and independence for all Malay-ruler States.

Give us anyone of the above, we’ll free the Uighurs and Saifu and Mamakutty can have all the Uighurs they want. Transport free to Putrajaya; all delivered within two weeks.

  • Free navigation in South China Sea? Agreed, done.
  • No warships in South China Sea? Yes, of course. Like Americans, the PLA Navy is just exercising free navigation.
  • Debt trap. Cancel all the projects, stupid!

When do we sign, Saifu?

Pakatan Harapan: A Terrorist Regime

Image result for saifuddin abdullah

Saifu and the lunatic Pompeo, Harapan’s paymaster. China: “A lie said a thousand times is still a lie.”

Saifu, you’re not going to mess with China, exporting to us your Mamakutty’s baggage of racism: It’s increasingly clear to us, Pakatan Harapan is a terrorist regime or a backer of such. That’s the red line you’ve just crossed. Stay away from China. We’re finished with you. That’s not a threat but a promise.



An Afghan in China

A Yemeni Arab in China.

What Iranians, Jordanians, Lebanese think of Chinese

Sample opinions, not all factual:

  • We make very good copies.
  • We eat everything.
  • We are so strict.
  • We are a great, ancient civilization.
  • We work too hard.
  • China? Ali Express.
  • Nobody speaks English.
  • The boy left the girl. The girl went to look for him in China, everybody looks the same.


Not any of the above. But, below, this is my dear China, my true China.

We’ll not let anybody hurt them, not Uighurs and their Saifus.

We guarantee you: a Chinese will be safe in China.


Northern Summer

Rain came. Yesterday touched 20 C. Flowers showed. The hanfu is back. Another summer has come. Yes, she will take that ring set.




The limits of my language mean the limits of my world. Whereof one cannot speak, thereof one must be silent. — Ludwig Wittgenstein 1989-1951

Tropicana The Residences KLCC Gets Trashed By Owner!

Three strikes and you are out, Danny boy.

You call this ‘impeccable’? No, no. Let me show you what’s ‘ultimate lifestyle’!

Image result for Man uses sledgehammer mothership

Lee Chin, can you please open this door for me. I have long nails. No, no…, not this way. This is how you open a door, my dear girl: you must be ‘smart and functional’ and you must cut your nails beforehand. Otherwise, you can’t go into the bathroom.

Danny! You call this a chair? A dressing table? You motherfucker of all motherrfuckers!

Danny, I’ll make you a new showroom for free, available 24 hours to all.


The man who smashed his Anglophile world


Mr Danny Tan: To Citizens of the World, to Dream Chasers, to the Intrepid. Listen to your Heart, Be Complete, Be Beautiful, Be Fulfilled.

Mr K: Wonderful, wonderful. Thank you, la, Danny. I just want a house.

Danny: Yes, of course. But, can’t you hear the bricks sing? The pillars dance. Even the paints smile back at you!

Image result for danny tan



  • Sleek Kuala Lumpur
  • Chic Tropicana
  • Savvy Danny

Although the market for The Residences are the Chinese, particularly in Taiwan, Singapore and China, the Tropicana advertising clip for condos is entirely in English. Your first encounter with that world of The Residences are the images. But, instead of your physical senses of sight and sound, language is still the ultimate connection to the world Tropicana had attempted to invent, and still does.

Language because it is the pliable surface layer to that external Tropicana world. This layer is permeable and impermeable; that is, it lets in information and it restricts information. Here, Ludwig Wittgenstein’s Tractatus Logicus-Philosophicus applies. You can only know the world outside you to the extent of your language ability. Without language, how can you talk of anything and, therefore, know anything? (In one of the novels of Gabriel Garcia Marquez, he described a world before the arrival of language where the only way to describe a thing, anything, was to point.) From the Tractatus:

The limits of my language mean the limits of my world. Whereof one cannot speak, thereof one must be silent. The world is everything that is the case.

With that primer out of the way, return to the Tropicana clip. Almost certainly manufactured by some Tropicana hanger-on in Malaysia, it employs words like “chic, sleek, 550ft above the city, fun starts here” in between flashes of images that were plagiarized. When is a condo, ‘chic’? What is it to be ‘sleek’ or ‘luxurious’.

And the term ‘550ft above the city’. What is something that’s up in the air if not the equal of a pie in the sky?

The cliche ‘fun starts here’ is the advertiser equivalent of Malaysiakini‘s Anglo-American propaganda line which says, ‘truth begins here’.

Most readers here don’t read nor write hanzi, so you will have to take my word for it: Translate word for word the clip into English, it will look stupid. There is no word for ‘chic’. Slick can only be rendered as 光润 guangrun which combines the qualities of glossiness, brightness, moist and softness.

The English language, you see, is manipulative of thought and, therefore, very deficient in conveying reality. Not the Chinese language. Being pictorial and ideogramatic it is resistant to such mental manipulation — which, we in China say, ‘wash mind’ 洗脑 xinao.

Or, to put it in the American vernacular, Malaysian Anglophiles are completely fucked up.

But from where had Danny Tan Chee Sing, owner of Berjaya and Tropicana Corp, acquired this sort of thinking or marketing mentality or, more broadly, culture to even accept the sort of salesman clip? From where had its advertising agency brought in that stupid clip? That is, why do they deceive so much? Deceive because if you go back to the clip, nothing, not the condo, not its existential essence nor the terms of the sale and purchase agreement is self-evident. All that you get is salesman propaganda collapsed into a series of flashing images and words, exactly the way DAP and Pakatan Harapan politicians sell their utopia politics.

One man bought into that propaganda, that pie-in-the-sky utopia, and upon discovering everything was all a lie, he proceeded one day to wreck it to pieces. The clip below follows:


Lee Chin is the woman behind K. In your prayers, if you believe in voodoo and if you pray, spare a thought for the poor woman: She’s just doing her job, wedged between a sledgehammer and some Danny pie-in-the-sky.



His grievance — let’s call him K, as in Franz Kafka’s K — is ostensibly straightforward: K paid about RM2 million for a unit in the condo-and-hotel building complex in Ampang next to the KLCC. That was completed in late 2018. The condos, totaling about 300 units and collectively known as The Residences, sell for between RM1.4 million to RM4 million a piece for an average of RM3 million. Keys were received on March 23 by the registered owner, a woman (K’s wife? daughter?). After which K met representatives of Tropicana Corp, the condo developer, to discuss extensive interior defects, ranging from broken floor marble to low (hence cheap) quality interior fixtures including furnishings.

As with such meetings between buyer and developer, almost nothing changed after that, if at all. On April 1, the registered owner filed a report with Tropicana on defective floors. On April 10, K video-filmed a meeting held with Tropicana’s representatives inside the condo. With a spray can and sledgehammer he proceeded methodically to wreck the place.

Copies of his videos were spliced into a single clip. Various online platforms picked up the videos, including one by Rojak Pot where some ‘Dr Adrian Wong’ helpfully posted the full-length clip (above) while proclaiming, apologetically, that he is some fair angel who sides with nobody: All “controversies have two sides”, he says. Which is of course a stupid cliche: Truth is always one-sided. Always. The other, flip side is called, False. Sometimes it’s call a Lie.

But, what do doctors know….

Several conclusions can be inferred:

One: K is at the end the rope hanging over a cliff. All his protestations have come to naught. Meetings with Tropicana were just that — idle chatter. He will write off his investment and has said so in the clip to that effect. He almost certainly will re-sell it or rent it, but the market is bad: As of this post, 112 units are (still) for sale, 175 going for rent. Average rent a piece: RM5,500. Four years before its completion, Tropicana had been trying to sell the same units, 2015 in Hong Kong and also in Taiwan, in numerous events screening the advertising clip and bragging incoherently about ‘style and elevated senses‘, whatever the fuck that is. Those they invite to their ‘product launch’ reminds of Jho Low and his retinue of petty bourgeoisie on the Equanimity deck, champagne flowing, lots of bare back girls, English speaking, all pretending to be like some white noveau riche from Europe, and so, like the Danny Tan kids, all Anglophiles, maybe even God-fearing Christians, who had in ‘beating the system‘ (Jho Low) made good by singing the same free market, scam-all-you-can carols you hear from Steven ‘Wonder’ Gan of Mkini and DAP’s Yeo Bee Yin.

Two: Tropicana will not compensate K, neither financially nor make good the defects. (See its written statement below.) In the same way Mahathir Mohamad fixed Najib Razak, the company’s refusal to deal with K starts first by appropriating morality to their side: ‘extortion’, ‘traumatized’ by K, it says, while proclaiming Tropicana to be a reasonable thing following contractual law.

Tropicana knows this: It has power and influence on its side, especially with Harapan politicians queued up on their aisle. Take the Edge publication, for example, a Harapan sponsor and owned by a former MCA man who, with Anwar Ibrahim patronage, got his big start with a bank license. The Edge devoted its entire report to regurgitating Tropicana’s statement, with nothing on how the event came into being, much less add the clip to the report. The editors painted K as an “alleged representative of a unit owner” who went on “a trail of destruction.” Those editors, as dim-witted as those in Malaysiakini, couldn’t see their contradiction: how could you as a ‘representative’ — and only an ‘alleged’ one at that — be ‘dissatisfied’ over something that isn’t established as yours? In Malaysia, stupid tycoons and editors come in pairs and are a dime a dozen.

Three. There will be no (legal) consequences, for Tropicana in particular. K’s threat to flush Tropicana’s reputation into the sewer is only as good as the summer wind blowing through the forest in my Liaoning. And K knows it: once money changed hands, the lever of power is no longer on his side. So Danny Tan need not bother himself about the clip for the fact that, in an Internet age, reputation is a matter of propaganda. He remains the Anglophile that he his, oblivious and nonchalant to the wreckage around him, and so his attitude towards his customers will remain unchanged. Below, for example, is Tropicana saying the same thing that K is fundamentally angry with:

We remain committed towards continuously delivering quality homes that not only fulfil the lifestyle aspirations but also enhance the quality of life of our customers.

Reread it, and note the same airy, gaseous turn of phrases that filled the Tropicana condo advertisements: ‘lifestyle aspirations’, ‘enhance’, ‘quality homes’, ‘quality of life’…. What is a lifestyle aspiration if not aesthetics and comfort? When does life takes on a ‘quality’? Whose quality? By whose standards?

That 89% of buyers, say Tropicana, are satisfied with the condos say nothing about their quality. They could simply be satisfied with the treatment — like Lee Chin, docile, obedient, hands clasped, heads nodding, silent, sympathetic — which they had received while complaining and note that Tropicana did not say how many complaints came in.

That the Tan brothers, Danny and Vincent, could understand nothing from the wreck of K’s condo says much about their Anglophile culture (referred to in Wittgenstein) and its limitations. They especially reveal their moral value system: to get ahead, fuck you, and fuck everyone. Only say the opposite.

Those are not Chinese values so that when K referred to the Chinese in China, it showed he didn’t understand Chinese culture either. He is an Anglo-Malaysian, who fell to Anglophone bourgeois propaganda. He is as Anglophile as Singaporeans, the Dannies, the Vincents, the Mahathirs and the Stevies, in who you find their biblical injunction to avenge a scam.

A Chinese in China who has fallen for the scam is more likely than K to first curse himself for not being able to read the contract and look out for what’s unstated, then bitch to the wife, kids, and relatives, later offload the property to some unsuspecting buyer, vowing under his breath never to step ashore in Malaysia. Confucian values have a far more stoic element: look inward; think and act; shit happens — all the time.

These differences in cultural attitudes explain why MCA has acted with docility in spite of 60 years of bullying by Mahathir’s Umno. MCA politicians misread the ability of the DAP, once it turned Anglophile, to influence the Chinese mind: that is, democracy requires far, far more effective propaganda than a Confucian society — or authoritarian power because why bother to spread propaganda disinformation, why bother to lie if you already have the means of influence over your subjects?

Such Chinese morality values — honesty, uprightness, and 言而无信 — fills the Bentong clip from beginning to end. Petra Kamarudin, another stupid Anglophile say they are ‘angry’: Do they sound or look angry? The Chinese will know what to do next.

This is not to say that no Chinese will lie or scam. This is just saying that our values will suppress the negative side whereas Anglophile culture exaggerates even promotes them. Vengeance is mind, says the Bible, and so it’s no coincidence that Anglo-Malaysians like citing the dictum of the ‘means serving the ends’.

At the fundamental, epistemological level, let’s return to Wittgenstein:

Here’s Tropicana trying sell something by converting your money — they call it ‘investment’ — into another form of reality (the condo) that doesn’t exist or, if it does, can only materialize years later. No guarantees there. Even so, Tropicana’s attempt to conjure an absent reality runs into this problem: How does Danny persuade K to immediately part with 2 million for a non-existent product?

Tropicana turns to fictional language, the only language available, and almost all the words used below to describe the condo are adjectives that attempt to describe a non-thing:

  • impeccable,
  • chic,
  • thrilling,
  • upscale,
  • sleek,
  • smart,
  • functional,
  • vogue,
  • vivacious,
  • bold,
  • stylish,
  • spirited,
  • mercurial,
  • passionate,
  • enough to ‘knock you off’ 550 feet up in the air.

That, the above, is not a made-up list. It is provided by some Anglophile copywriter and art producer who probably went to school reading Jane Austen then, upon graduation, re-sell the same language to half-wits like Danny Tan who would have read the same sort of condo promotions in England. Re-read the list because the words in combination conjure an imagery you cannot quite place. It’s like the Anglophile attempt to imagine pastoral England from Thomas Hardy novels, or a farm girl running off with a Christian pastor, any of which is not in the daily Malaysian experiences of living in coconut trees and out of mosquito swamps.

That is, to rephrase the above, those descriptions are pure inventions and have nothing substantive to do with K’s transaction of 2 million ringgit for a condo. He was just taken for a ride, and he didn’t know it. Or, if he did, he did so willingly, trusting in the canvas of fictional imagination.

Even that imagination can only go so far, as far as our experiences will allow. Outside of that, outside of the brick and mortar building, the words still say nothing about the condo, not even the location. When is a condo ‘passionate’? What is it to be ‘vivacious’? Or ‘smart’? What’s so ‘bold’ about K’s decision to buy a Tropicana unit?

Because all the questions answer to, ‘Nothing’, then the substitute for specificity and concreteness is language, the same language that Tropicana — and Malaysiakini, too — trolls out daily. K fell for the same world he has grown up in, come to know, and gotten used to. It’s the only primeval world there is for him and note that in the clip, between switching from English to Cantonese and back, he uses only English — never Chinese — when describing the sofa, the dressing table, the doors, and the floor. It is the kind of language George Orwell warned about, one that

make lies sound truthful and (fraud) respectable, and to give an appearance of solidity to pure wind.”


Hello Joey, how’re you doing?

If you know what’s good for you, don’t mess with us, not in China especially. Listen, obey, keep your head down and you’d be okay. You want a girl on warm summer nights? Go fuck your mama.

Image result for 1mdb jho low

The same setting above is found in the launch of Tropicana’s condos: lots of oogling, bow ties, some Russian caviar, lots of girls and, above all, Anglo-American whiteness.

China has more than a hundred times as many such ‘Residences’, with next to no ‘showrooms’, and yet they don’t sell it the way Danny does. Not one. Want to know why?

We don’t need to because we don’t fucking ‘pre-sell’ in which Tropicana takes your money and passes all construction, completion and financing risks to you. Then, if that’s not bad enough, the tycoons make money from your money — leaving you a supposed RM5,000 sofa set with a RM500 piece of junk made in Tan Kok Wai’s backlane Cheras — after which the editors of The Star, Edge and Sun, oogling at all that accumulated wealth, begin to write of business superstars as if the Dannies and Vincies are a wonder specie from heaven. Or maybe not: Maybe Danny’s underlings pocketed the sofa difference, and quietly dropped half into Kok Wai’s electoral campaign.

Jack Ma prove the Anglophiles wrong: even a Hebei farmer or a Fujian primary school teacher can make more money than all the Malaysian Dannies and Vincies lined up from Johor to Penang, and this rise of the Chinese is due to ingenuity and concern for the public. Not scamming, propaganda and bribing the Connections. Also, compare Tropicana’s launch elsewhere to this presentation, in Chinese.

Yes, Tropicana is “impeccable, chic, thrilling, upscale, sleek, smart, functional, vogue, vivacious, bold, stylish, spirited, mercurial, passionate, enough to ‘knock you off’ 550 feet up in the air.” It is heaven on earth; even the pillars dance, the bricks sing, and the paint smiles back at you.

But where, Danny, is the fucking condo?

Why are Malaysians so stupid, taking out 2 million after a piece of propaganda shit when you won’t pay 60 bucks for a durian without first smelling its arse?

I told you so, dear reader. The ultimate Malaysian problem, you see, isn’t just the Dannies, their underling Ivans and Hannahs, the Syeds and the Kadirs; it’s the fucking society, its rules and lies, its conventions, systems and gods to which you are raised to believe and accept and which Harapan won’t change because they don’t know how and can’t know: Change to what?

Why do Anglophiles look up to Joseph Lim, a man who doesn’t even know how to tie his tie, or his shoelaces. To see the veracity in that statement, check this out: Father Lim says, I’m proud to be Chinese and then some years later sonny boy replies, But, Daddy, ‘I’m not Chinese’.

What does that make Joseph Lim a/l Kit Siang? A virgin birth, like Jesus? A bastard?

Yet, at that moment, one morning in May 2018, everybody from the Prime Minister down is clapping and cheering, and Stevie Wonder Gan declares the next day that Josie has made the world’s most profound episcopal statement, enough, so it seems, to shake the planet down to its core. Phew…!

Below, all the Tan Anglophiles, front and back, left and right, the Dannies and the Vincies. In the Chinese new world order, they are so yesterday. Like that Lim uncle and his bastard son from a Johor pig farm.


Sidebar: Some years ago, news in China reported that the local multi-billion dollar McDonald’s franchise was sticking rotten meat into its hamburgers. Some people had complained of diarrhea. Police stepped in. The next day they went to the tycoon’s office, marched him out through the door into the street, still in handcuffs and leg chains, then shoved him into a waiting police van for the neighborhood to see. (He was never seen again in public.)

Moral of the story: There are no Vincents nor Dannies in China, and the only tycoon that exists is named the Communist Party. Everybody else is equal and must behave accordingly.

Another true story. This is about some top-rated, wealthy, beautiful actress. One day she disappeared without a trace. Months later when she reappeared in public, it was to declare — in writing which she read out — that she would pay all her back taxes, about 6 million ringgit, and promise to make good on all taxes to future income. No more cheating.

Hey, Danny! You coming to China? Ask KFC for some palm oily advice and remember to get some Mandarin tutoring classes. In China, our contracts are in Chinese. On the way, you might want to pick up a book at the airport. It’s called the Analects. Or, if you prefer, try the Tractatus. You know how to read, don’t you?

In China, you scam, you die.


Next two images

Tropicana’s dismissive attitude towards K.

Tropicana press release on the controversy

Tropicana press release on the controversy


Pusing and pusing: Olang Cina kena tipu!

(Sounds like a Tropicana sales launch.)

Listening to DAP sales talk selling a Tropicana Utopia, the clip above reminds of the Chinese wisdom: 言而无信. It means, literally, ‘never trust to speech’ — not even for the speaker.

Petra Kamarudin or RPK, from whom the clip was lifted, said the Chinese were ‘angry’ with Harapan. Did you hear angry words? But, what does a stupid Anglophile in Manchester know?

What you hear instead peppered from beginning to end are morality issues: The reliability of speech rests on a person’s trustworthiness not his words. Harapan politicians, DAP ones in particular, failed on both counts: their persons and their words. These things always come together.



It is not a coincidence that only in the English (in Malaysia) that political language should be the same as Tropicana’s use of fictional words in its advertisments. Both forms appear daily in Mkini. This deception isn’t difficult to detect once you begin to read closely, as a matter of habit, and then question the lines. No wonder Hemingway insisted his novels carry no adjectives for that would require lots of lying.

All this is a roundabout way to say that K’s actions showed he was lied to. And self-destruction, or suicide in another word, is the only way out.

His problem isn’t ostensibly a matter of getting what he paid for because this way of looking at it begs the question: What was he expecting? Isn’t his expectations spelt out and, therefore, limited by the S&P Agreement? Doesn’t he know how to read?

But expectations are not the same as contractual law. In some legal remedies, the advertising is considered part of the contract. Not in Malaysia where the contract supersede the expectations, even if the latter was cultivated by misrepresentation. These misrepresentations are everywhere in Tropicana. In combination, it was fraud, identical to the way 1MDB was fashioned and sold to then Najib government.

It is the marketers dictum that they can proclaim their product to be the world’s best, and that’s not illegal. Buyers beware only because lying is not illegal: Mahathir Mohamad, Lim Guan Eng, Steven Gan, et al, all get away with it, everyday, in the name of freedom of speech and human rights.

That advertising agencies are professional liars paid for the task the Dannies and the Stevies want done in order to extract money from K and others is today a given. It’s even respectable. Anglo-America created advertising, which was necessary to democratic politics. The only difference being, nobody nor does Malaysiakini ever call it propaganda: selling to the electorate a pie in the sky (it’s call Hope) in return for their vote that will, in turn, give power to Harapan politicians.

It was in the campaigning leading to May 9, 2018, that Harapan propaganda flipped around the above idea: Power that is today accrued by its politicians was portrayed as belonging to the electorate. Post May 9, voters find that to be a lie. And here’s a simple test: where is that Harapan pie in the sky? Life hadn’t changed an iota, whereas the power to control, to influence and to dictate events, to jail and to set free, rested entirely with Harapan and the institutions its politicians control, the jail, the courts, the police, the contracts and, above all, the money.

In the clip K is expressing a parallel disillusionment voters have with Harapan today (see the Bentong clip above). The only reason they have not descended on Putrajaya with sledgehammers is because, practically, they don’t own the government and because the police would be waiting. By any standard, voters were defrauded as K was by Tropicana. But lying is not illegal.



Don’t Ever Vote an Umlungu

  • In South Africa, anybody but a White.
  • In Malaysia, anybody but an Anglophile. (Itu olang sama sama la)


Genocide of the Chinese in Malaysia



Typically, Chinese gravestones will list the immediate family members, place of birth and day of death. This facilitates qingming visits.

In the sign above and others, the Chinese were nameless when buried, almost certainly in mass graves. This showed one thing: the cavalier attitude of the government, not bothering even to identify the dead, much less contact the relatives or pay compensation for the dereliction of duty to protect its citizens. Indeed, Mahathir Mohamad and his band of fascist Malays wanted the Chinese dead.

To further obfuscate the May 13 genocide, hospital authorities buried some of the Chinese victims among dead lepers in the Sungai Buloh Leprosy Settlement, below. Note that those are not Muslim gravestones.

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Compare the above to the much older Japanese WWII cemetery in KL, Loke Yew, below. In Malaysia, invaders (next two images further below) receive far better treatment than its Chinese citizens. In Mahathir’s Malaysia today, they are lifted onto pedestals as model humans.

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The acts above and below are, like the Chinese genocide of May 13, crimes against humanity by any standard. The photos were found from among the Japanese after Allied forces recaptured Malaya.

Under the Statute of Rome, May 13 would be a judicial offence, with Mahathir included in the dock because no government, during his time, or before or after, have acted on the law for mass murder.

Rais Hussin: Harapan follows the rule of law, did you say. Human rights? Really?

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Genocide UN Definition

“…any of the following acts committed with intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnical, racial or religious group, as such:

  • killing members of the group;
  • causing serious bodily or mental harm to members of the group;
  • deliberately inflicting on the group conditions of life calculated to bring about its physical destruction in whole or in part; …”


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Above: The Faces of Anglophile Evil

They are today’s new fascist clique: Mahathir center, Joseph Lim seated on his right. Others not pictured: Lim Kit Siang, Saifuddin Abdullah, Rais Hussin, Steven Gan, Tony Pua, Charles Santiago, Hannah Yeoh, Jomo Sundram — without exception, all Anglophiles, all ideologues, all convinced about their individual self-righteousness.


The two men — one for leading the Chinese to their deaths, and the other for directly instigating the Malays for the massacre of Chinese — are still alive and they run the country today, one from behind the throne.

Mahathir would have been age 43 at the time; the man most directly culpable in the Chinese genocide — and he continues advocating for it today. The blood in his hands? Take the official 300 Chinese bodies multiplied by 10 gives you the estimated number of dead.

They are natural allies, Mahathir and the Anglophile father-and-son pair of Lim Kit Siang and Joseph Lim.

Both are the racial products of English mission schools. Both very ideological. Both think the world of Anglo-American life and the superiority of Anglo-Saxon morality values. Both are Anglophiles, whose only idea of Chinese philosophical culture never extended beyond ‘Chinese New Year’, and who understand Confucian and Daoist traditions purely as voodoo rather than as rituals in human relationships.

Like Hirohito’s Japanese, Mahathir is, as he himself has acknowledged, a fascist to the bone, believing Jews and Chinese to be the same. The Lim family hated the Chinese; the father because he was raised among pigs, could barely read Chinese, and think of Chinese as a ‘backward’ class, useful only to function as a ladder in the grab for power. Mahathir, in the present life and during May 13, would use the Malays.

Consequently, the son Joseph Lim would proclaim himself to the world “not a Chinese,” not even in ethnicity — words that would have pleased Mahathir very well. If the man couldn’t rid Malaysia of all Chinese, he has at least gotten the Lim family of Fujian to denounce their forefathers and identities.

And so, it is clear why, therefore, Mahathir would change his mind about the Statute of Rome treaty and after which to pin the blame on Prince of Johor. In Mahathir’s verbatim words:

Jadi Statute of Rome ini hanya terkena pada kita kalau kita excessive.

Excessive bermakna katalah discrimination in favour of the Malays, carried out by seizing all properties of the Chinese and killing the Chinese. That would be excessive.

Given half a chance, Mahathir would have killed more Chinese. He has toyed with the idea of driving the Chinese into the Malacca Straits, the same extermination idea that hogs Anglo-American headlines about China and which finds favor among neo-liberal Anglophiles like Annie of the Valley, herself a half-Chinese, half-Malay.

Mahathir didn’t succeed with the killings, but he did very well with the second: In the past decades, more than a million Chinese have fled Malaysia. That’s 20 percent of the Chinese population who now live, work or study outside Malaysia (this author included). Having done that — decreasing the Chinese population in order to increase the Malay numbers — Mahathir would subsequently make sure not one Chinese ever step ashore, proceeding thus to undermine all China’s projects, especially the Forest City project in Johor.

Mahathir may not know how to lift the well-being of the Malay lot, but he knew how to make the Chinese life miserable especially by pitting Chinese against Chinese when Malays against Chinese don’t go very far.

This is Malaysia’s anti-Chinese pogrom 50 years on — continued by other means.

Meanwhile, the Anglophile English media, notably Steven Gan’s US-sponsored Malaysiakini, persists with the pretense this is a benign country, the pretense that the past is unimportant, let sleeping dogs lie, they say, while they pontificate the Anglo-America line that Malaysia is a country governed by the rule of law.

There will be no commemoration to the May 13, no Commission for Truth and Reconciliation so that even today the disappeared will remained disappeared, people are killed and won’t be found, the DAP’s cronies, Mahathir’s as well, will get their contracts, their journalists continue to churn independent fake news, children will be abducted and Mahathir will say these truths are just hearsay.

Save Malaysia? Don’t bother. The sooner it implodes the better.


Below, in three days of a murder orgy, looting and arson, Malays killed more than 3,000 Chinese and today still not one person is held to account.

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An Anglophile demagogue, Lim Kit Siang (below) exploited Chinese sentiments for power. Once, he won the 1969 general elections, repeated in 2018, he instigated DAP (flag above) members to fight Malays and got other Chinese killed as a result.

Not once has he said ‘sorry’ that May 13 happened, nor did he do anything for the maimed, not even to comfort them or help bury the dead.

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Notice: not one policeman in sight.

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Immediately above, the Ta Kung Pao, 1969 May 16th issue.


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Petaling Street, circa 1970s. A decade later, as a child, I first visited the street with my parents to buy fruits but met Mahathir’s uniformed Malay fascist goons, also for the first time.


1969 May 13 Diaries

I am a child born after the May 13 anti-Chinese pogrom. Yet 50 years after, the genocide feels real to me. Perhaps it is because of Mahathir Mohamad, Lim Kit Siang and the ideology they import from Anglo-America. Reflections below.


Reposting Article 1:

There was never a good reason to visit KL other than because my maternal grandparents live there.

Petaling Street in the late 1980s — I forget when it was exactly — had the smell and look of a butcher’s chicken market in a Chinese town in Malaysia. (Do they still call it a ‘wet market’?) Only years later, I understood why: Where there were Chinese, even if they had voted for the MCA, Mahathir Mohamad’s ministers, Sanusi Junid in particular, would spent as little as possible in the Chinese districts. It is as if the money belongs to them. The argument being, within finite financial resources, Malays in kampungs are more deserving. This is the idea that drives Mahathrism and Malay political hegemony: Malays being more deserving, Chinese are not true citizens. We are tolerated at best.

It was probably late that year when we arrived; late year because I remembered it rained everyday. The drizzle had long stopped and the sky cleared. We came to an apple and fruit cart mounted on a tricycle, its small, blue canopy still dripping. Mama wanted some oranges because, she complained, the night before at dinner in grandpa’s live-in shop there were neither desserts nor fruits. She was still grumbling at Papa at the fruit stand: How could he have forgotten on our way here? Anywhere along the way, we could have picked up something — anything. He said nothing.

The fruit seller handed her the plastic bags of oranges and grapes while Papa dug into his pockets for his wallet and money.

I was perhaps age about ten at the time. I could barely see above the flat base of the timber cart but I could hear coming from one end of the street the sounds of commotion and shouting: “来了! 来了!” — They’re here! They’re here!

Someone called to the fruit seller:  “来了! 来了!快跑呀!Quick, run!

Two stalls away, the man selling trinkets, brooms, pots and pans hurriedly closed. With the sweep of a hand he flipped a tarpaulin over the entire load. It must have been used to shield his goods from the rain because it looked wet. With a jerk, the woman who had been with him pulled at one end of the cart. I heard a loud click that unlocked a brake and stabilizer contraption. The man started to push and heave. Some things felled off, but he didn’t pause to look back, or maybe he didn’t know. The cart shook and rattled as it rolled in the opposite direction from where a group of dark uniformed men came down the street at a trot.

Papa paid the fruit seller and said: “You better go now.”

没事  我们已经给了。” he replied. “It is nothing. We have already paid.

Mama handed the fruits to Papa, grabbed the palm of my hand, and said: “Let’s go.”

Evening two days later, we were at a unlit street corner of Jalan Tuanku Abdul Rahman where seated at a battered plywood table beneath a dark cloudy sky without stars, the neon-lit word ODEON provided the only source of light. It blinked non-stop from diagonally across the road.

Seated, fanning herself with the palm of her hand, she lit a cigarette with the other, put away the box of cigarettes, took out a makeup palette, looked at it a moment. She might had changed her mind because she dropped it back into her handbag that clamped with a click.

“The cinema is closed,” Mama said to Papa, staring at the neon.

“What are they going to do with it?”

“Don’t know. People say an office block, maybe.”

Father went, O! and turned to the cook who had stepped up in his soiled, greasy apron. Few paces away, a girl who looked my age peeled onions and garlic seated on a low stool. Next to her a woman, squatting beside a drain, washed bowls, plates and chopsticks in an enormous sized round tub. At a village where we pass by on the way home daily, I have seen parents used the tub to bath kids half my age.

Each time when we are out, especially when in KL, Mama is boss. She ordered: noodles, fried; fish and a plate of leafy vegetables, I forget what is it even. The quiet street looked misty from the rain earlier. Next to us, the only two tables remaining were empty. Dinner arrived quickly.

We were just starting to eat when three uniformed men turned up, like ghosts out of nowhere. They went straight to the cook. The woman rose; the young girl gazed up at them still peeling garlic. Papa and Mama also paused in their eating, shifted in their chairs so that they could see what was going on, but we could hear nothing. There was just low murmurs drowned by the soft roar of the kerosene stove under a table top with a hole cut at one end to contain the wok.

When the men left, the cook came over. He is sorry, he begun, he had to rush us to finish our food. He had to close up. “But why?” Mama asked.

Municipal instructions. No cooked food allowed here, he answered.

“Since when?” Papa interjected. “Hadn’t they been paid?”

For a second, the cook remained silent. Then he said: “Yes, we paid. Which is why they won’t seize our things. They will give us time to close up. Then they will come back.”

It was the year before I left for America when we returned to Jalan TAR after a visit to the US embassy. Confronted by memories of that night, I think about the girl who peeled onions and wondered where she might be, what had happened to her, and whether she still goes to school. I thought of her as pretty, her long hair tied in a pony tail. In another life, under another set of circumstances, we could have been friends. Even lovers. Perhaps.

Papa was away in another country for work, so Mama drove the car. She was still smoking. Winding down the window, she tossed the cigarette end out the door, went into gear, and waited awhile more. When the lights turned green, she drove across the ODEON intersection.

“Ma? You remember we ate here?” I pointed excitedly to the spot where, on a misty night, a Chinese couple and a child once ran a noodle stand. For a second, she turned to look then returned her concentration to the traffic. I didn’t wait for a reply. “There are two food stalls now. Same place.”

Both belonged evidently to Malays. It was still day but an ad board facing oncoming traffic was draped in blinking decorative lights people use for Christmas trees. In large hand-written colored letters, the board read ‘TOM YAM’. At the next stand, an overhead display reads ‘RAMLY BURGER’.

The Chinese are a super tolerant people. They asked for little and want nothing they can’t pay for. Which suggests why a district like Cheras is impenetrable so that the sins of Mahathir will remain in the collective consciousness as long as Chinese exist in Malaysia.

Looking from outside in, the Mahathir-DAP alliance might seem like a paradox for the Cheras constituents, simultaneously supporting DAP and tolerating the common enemy, Mahathir.

But, look at it another way: Mahathir’s contribution to Lim Kit Siang is that the former singularly annihilate MCA’s entire voter base then rocketed the entire lot to the DAP. That is, without Mahathir’s fascism, DAP would have no dissatisfaction upon which to build its base and to nurture its beginnings. It would have been a write-off a long time ago. This is as if the DAP and Umno are mutual creations, one dependent on the other for their separate existence. Or, to rephrase that, the greater is the success Umno has in ‘protecting’ Malays from the Chinese, the better off it is for the DAP, electorally and politically. The success of one offers gain to the other.

Clamped in between the two all along, MCA has had to pay for 50, 60 years Mahathir’s sin. Today, because of the Mahathir-DAP alliance, it has suddenly found a chance to wriggle away free. And which is to make DAP pay for Mahathir’s sins — rightfully so.

Penang is no comparison to KL or Selangor. There, for a generation or more, it had Gerakan Chinese protective rule so that if any Chinese suffered as a consequence of Umno racism it was from the hand of incompetence and stupidity more than Mahathirism.

There is no such protective luxury in Petaling Street and Bukit Bintang and Kepong. In those places, the Chinese were face to face with the Mahathir pogrom that, in the end, not only disenfranchise millions but systematically, step-by-step, drove them from their homes and broke up their lives.

When I was old enough, Mama told me that a gang of Malay youths had burnt down her father’s furniture shop. That is, my maternal grandfather. It was never rebuilt and the family is today scatttered into the four corners of the planet, with only memories for company. I chose China because, as my motherland, it is the safest in the world to be Chinese. We can stop running. China is me and I, her.

We share the same past: The history of China and of the Chinese is a history of sorrows.

Only Chinese resilience, propped up by a deep humanistic and familial culture, could have seen us through those dark decades. Even so, we know in our hearts we’ll triumph and we’ll be great again because we have both the capability and the diligence to go with those objectives.

I still wonder about the girl, where she might be. She is probably married, somewhere in Cheras maybe. Or, she could be like the woman in the market, confronting Heng Sinn Yee, bitter as well as hating the sins of Mahathir that had been transferred to the MCA and still borne by the party. ….


One of Mama’s favorite singers.

“This is not our country. Leave,” she once said to me. I didn’t fully understand it then. “I’ll have to die here, or they’ll be nobody to visit your grandparents on qingming. But you go; go anywhere; just don’t stay.” Now, I understand.


Reposting Article 2:

Mama never said anything about what happened on May 13. Was she there when the gang of Malay youths entered the furniture shop? Who else was there? Where had the Malays come from? What did they do before setting alight the place? How? Did they take anything? Hurt anyone? What were they like? How were they dressed? What did they say to one another, or to her family?

It never occurred to me to ask any of these questions then as if all that had taken place in a dream, and the dream wasn’t even mine. I wonder why.

But years later, on assignment, I did write a 3,500-word short story, imagining what might had happened that day.

There were other May 13 reminders, usually every five years from Mahathir Mohamad. You see it in the papers, full page, Chinese, English, and in color.

This is the queer part: Why does Mahathir want to remind the Chinese whom he had contributed to incite for their murder?

It can’t be me: what can I possibly know because a memory as tumultuous as May 13 requires an experience beforehand. Mama? But why? Was Mahathir responsible, in part, in one way or another? Was he threatening to burn down more Chinese homes because Mama’s family had another furniture shop then, only half the size of the one that’s gone but in a less vulnerable and an exclusively Chinese district. Even that was eventually sold which meant that nothing physical — other than memories — tie our families to the country and the land.

After DAP’s alliance with Mahathir there will be nothing left to remember. But then it is not their memories, not their mothers, and not their shops. Besides, they aren’t even Chinese — the Christians Hannah Yeoh and Lim Guan Eng said so, even tried to formalize it on paper. Why then should Anglophiles, Christians in particular, care for infidels, who they consider as believers of voodoo and the low class?

For the past decade, they had the Chinese in their pockets, especially those who live in Penang. Blame ourselves for being such fools.

But I shall leave their betrayal, the Wu Sangui 吳三桂 DAP, in my heart forever. I will take them with me, wherever, back to Jian, back to China, my home and, unlike Mama, I will tell everybody, Jian, our children, everybody. And the children will tell their children. Not even death will erase this memory. The betrayal, because it cuts deeper, is the greater of the two crimes.

For 50 years it had been Mahathir oppression, these days Anglophile deception. They do this by depositing all of Umno’s ills, all Malaysia’s actually, collected the past 60 years, particularly those Mahathir created, on one man — Najib Razak — even as they sleep with the main culprit. Duplicity is sooner or later found out. But, for now, they have Mahathir, a man as skilled as they are in the deception.

After America, I had spent the last decade in mainland China, Taiwan and Hong Kong (in that decreasing order of duration). Jian came into my life quite by accident and she permitted me to see a contrast not between Malaysia and China, but between who is Chinese and those in urban Malaysia. This is like they are two opposite worlds.

“But they are Malay!” she said when we talked about urban Chinese and Anglophiles. “And you are Chinese.”

I am nearly thrown off the chair because of its sheer veracity. If that is true, then all problems are solved.

Queer: there is relief after learning that the flight back to China is confirmed. Should Pakatan win, I challenge them to declare war on China so that we can settle this matter with Mahathir — finally.

Like in many national upheavals — think of the French revolution or, nearer home, the Indochina wars — May 13 was intended to settle matters. That these convulsions sometimes don’t, as in May 13, it is from the results of dynamics carried forward to the future.

That future is, of course, now — flowing out from 1969. Stated another way, we stare at the May 13 legacies, living it actually.


We Chinese must return to our native Motherland, the world’s safest place to be Chinese: There, no mamak barbarians, no Mahathir, no fascists, no Joseph Lims, no Stevies or Joshies, no Anglophiles or Malays or Rais or Kadirs. We will get our justice from afar; that we swear on the graves of our forefathers.


The Silk Roads: Past, Present, Future

The West is dying…

and Euro-centric Malaysia — this Anglophile country that believes the world of White people, values, technology, religion, ideas, money — is why it is also doomed

We Chinese will reclaim the history that was once ours

We’re the Middle Kingdom (below)

The ways of yesterday don’t explain the future. — Duke of Zhou, c.300BCE


This is a postscript of three earlier postings. Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3.


The Anglophile Network as Deep State


Democratic and Free and Open Society?

Some the members of the Deep State cabal of bankers, politicians, academics, fake journalists:

  • Rothschild,
  • Rockefeller,
  • Soros,
  • Clintons,
  • William Kristol (founder editor, Weekly Standard, defunct. See below),

The Twitter question above was purely rhetorical. As a part of that regime change goal, Deep State had recommended undermining China but from the outside rather than the inside which would be impossible. Hence, the regime change in Malaysia became a starting point, making Harapan subservient to the US administration, then using the former to derail all existing China contracts and thereby shaking the developing, non-western world’s perception of the Chinese. Of course, the international media (primarily western and in the English) would play its role-part, disseminating that perception from Malaysia, with Steven Gan and Malaysiakini at the forefront.

  • Robert Gates,
  • Katie Couric,
  • Diane Sawyer,
  • Zbigniew Brzezinski (now dead),
  • Steven Mnuchin (present US Secretary of Treasury, CFR member)
  • Robert Lighthizer, (present US Trade Rep., CFR)
  • Wilber Ross (present US Secretary of Commerce, Bildenberg, ex-Rothschild Inc.)
  • Rick Perry (present Energy Secretary, Bildenberg)
  • James Mattis (US Defense Secretary, resigned, CFR, Bildenberg)
  • Elaine Chao (赵小兰 Zhao Xiaolan, US Transport Secretary, born 1953, Taipei, immigrated at age 8, CFR, ex-Citicorp)
  • Deutsche Bank,
  • Canadian Imperial Bank,
  • Exxon,
  • JP Morgan Chase
  • Goldman Sachs,
  • Raytheon,
  • Time-Warner,
  • The Economist,
  • Wall Street Journal,
  • World Economic Forum,
  • Aspen Institute,
  • Brookings Institution,
  • Club of Rome,
  • Council on Foreign Relations or CFR,
  • Trilateral Commission (North America, Western Europe, Japan)…


The core and central governing structure of the cabal is a western colonial, medieval, feudalistic top-down institution (and dare we say, white racist)

Deep State as represented in the Bilderberg Group, below (click to enlarge):

The Bilderberg Group headquarters building outside Dresden, Germany.

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Although supposedly private, Bilderberg has armed guards round the clock.

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Bilderberg’s first meeting, 1954.

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Bilderberg’s meeting 2001

Attendees, Bilderberg’s meeting 2014.

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Mock-up poster of some Bilderberg member politicians and bankers


On Jun 12, 2016, a whistleblower pooled together a vast collection of photo-copied documents obtained from a variety of sources, including academic institutions, all related to the Bilderberg. These were uploaded to this site: publicintelligence.net. Parts of the collection are also found here.

The archives include the one below, dated 2006, by the Marines Corp intelligence department. Within two years of that document circulated inside Bilderberg, the CIA and Soros began active recruitment of Steven Gan, Ambiga, Rais Hussin, other Harapan politicians for regime change in Malaysia. Najib Razak and Umno were doomed.



US Deep State in action on regime change

US ‘Regime Change Stew’ recipe:

  • 1. Heat the pot by condemning the regime’s legitimacy
  • 2. Stir gently and physically join opposition
  • 3. Season with sanctions
  • 4. Throw in some guns
  • 5. ???
  • 6. Profit



PLA Navy 70th Anniversary

That which belongs to others we do not want. That which was passed on to us by our ancestors, we will not give up. Not an inch. — Heard in China (clip below)


Below, RMN in Qingdao. There is a short interview with some Malaiyoos.



We took back HK from Anglos. Next, we’ll take back Taiwan from the Yanks.

解放軍海軍節前膽 — 閱艦式上哪些亮點不容錯過?


We Will Have the Kra Canal!

(…then the Anglos and Mamaks are screwed.)

We’ll work with the Thais to birth a new civilization, severed from Anglophiles.

Malaiyoo! Place your bets. See BRI, below.




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This coming week in Qingdao, there shall be a grand celebration to mark the PLA Navy 70th birthday. The clip below is from a military TV channel that talks (in Chinese) about the occasion. In it, there is a segment in which an old submarine is put up for public visits, and interviews with some veterans. Interesting.

Some 40 countries, including Singapore, are taking part in a naval parade for the occasion. The Russians sending an aircraft carrier.

Additionally, the second aircraft carrier has also completed sea trials; it will join the 70th celebrations. A third and fourth are under construction; these will be much bigger. We also have nuclear submarines with long range missile capability.

Live streaming from Qingdao, showing the first nuclear-powered submarine.


Jian wasn’t in the navy. But our home today is near Qingdao.

Although uploaded in 2016, the clip immediately below is actually from much earlier years. Jian has offer 10,000 yuan if I can find her in the clip. I double the prize to anyone who can do it.

Above, inside look of a military college. I’m told that the hardest part isn’t the hand combat or firearms training or operating an armored vehicle because that depends entirely on the person. Rather it’s the marching. Because an entire regiment must act exactly the same, the precision and performance depends also on the person next to you and 300 others.

Below, full inspection by Xi Jinping, 2017.

After decades of sacrifices, discipline and modernization, we’re finally ready for war.

And we’ll defend our motherland, every speck of land, sea and air, to the last drop of blood, to the last man, woman and child. We fear nobody.


My Motherland



The East is Red


The Chinese have stood up, 1949-2019



When war comes…


Katyusha, in Russian and Chinese.


Chinese civilization captured in 60 minutes, 2008 Beijing Olympics.

These were performed by the PLA.


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Tsai Ing-wen or Cai Yingwen 蔡英文 of Taiwan:

  • Incompetent
  • War-mongering
  • Belligerent
  • Evangelical
  • Duplicitous
  • Narcissistic
  • Neo-liberal
  • Big mouth, &
  • Totally fucked up.


Beware the false prophets among you…

Cai Yingwen 蔡英文 of Malaysia

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Cai Yingwen 蔡英文 of America

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Cai Yingwen 蔡英文 of Cheras

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Cai Yingwen 蔡英文 of IOI Puchong

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What’s wrong with that wedding?

(Give your answers in comment section. Top best 3 answers get a free, unconditional IOI made, ready-to-occupy double-storey house and a seven-tier, 2 kg wedding cake — even if you are gay or divorced. No questions asked.)